Hannah Clinkenbeard woke up to the words of Sergeant Jules and felt a fierce tightness in her chest. Then the hand clasping at her heart seemed to compress. Pain hammered at her and shot down her arm. She struggled up, falling out of her bed and pulling the covers with her. She dragged herself over the chilly floor to the door, opening it with difficulty.
She tried to cry out for help, but couldn’t manage more than a croak. She was fading fast and the only thing keeping her moving was pure will, and an incandescent anger at just how unfair the man upstairs was. She wanted a word with the management!
She passed out in the hallway, this time dragging over the small table she’d been laboriously climbing, and that noise had finally brought help.
“Back with us?” a familiar voice asked her. Hannah found that she was looking up into Dr. Wong’s face.
“Wah ‘appen ‘ith ‘ee?” she asked, or tried to ask. Wong’s almond-shaped eyes grew guarded and he brought forth a fake smile.
“Everything is going to be all right-” He began to reassure her, but she squeezed his hand tight, twice, stopping him. “No? I see…”
“’Nesty izz eye plizzee,” Hannah gabbled. “Me! What!?”